Underneath The Surface

One day...

"Where's Julian?"   

Wynter looked up from his homework when his sister walked in. Her tiny fists were clenched and her pouty lips were quivering. It was five-thirty in the morning. She usually woke up at six-thirty for school.

He stood up immediately, kneeling before her to talk "Are you crying?"

"I want Julian!" she mumbled, her voice tight with tears. Wynter stroked back hair from her face, wiping the wetness on her cheeks.

"Julian went home. You can talk to me, though. Talk to Da-da."

She shook her adamantly, dark hair flying, some strands stuck to her face with tears "I want Julian. Da-da call Julian!"

All Wynter wanted to do was cry with her. To sit on the floor cross-legged and cry with her until Julian came home. He had never felt more like a fool in his entire life. He was scared. He was so scared, that he had lost the one happiness he had for himself.

"I'm sorry, love."

She had started to sob now, face and eyes turning red, snot dripping down her lips. He wiped her face with his hoodie sleeve, pressing a kiss to her head "What's wrong, Hayden? Are you alright?"

Wynter's heart broke when she pushed away his arms, stopping him from hugging her. "I told you not to! I told you not to and you still let him in! I hate the mean man! I hate him!"

"Hayden, that's dad--"

"No!" she screamed. "You're Da-da! You're my Dada!"

He looked on helplessly as she cried, "Well he's mine atleast. He's my dad. So we have to be nice to him."

"He stole my money, Da-da."

"What?"

She sniffled and shook her head, running back up the stairs and into her room.

Wynter inhaled sharply, disbelief filling his chest. Stealing from a child's piggy bank? His dad?

Nimbly he made his way to his father's bedroom, fist suspended mid-air. Contemplating whether he should knock or not? He believed Hayden. Of course he did. It was not like her to lie about things for the hell of it.

"Hey dad?"

He knocked a couple of times. The silence in the house broke with the click of the door. Strong smell of alcohol overwhelmed Wynter's senses. He gagged a little at the stench. His dad attempted a smile "The brat snitched. Didn't she?"

"So you did. You stole from her damn piggy bank? Dad, what the fuck is wrong with you? You stole money from a child?!"

"She gave it to me, man. C'mon boy, loosen up. I didn't beat her up or something like---"

"Oh, I'm supposed to be grateful? That you didn't touch her? It's the bare minimum as her father--"

"She calls you dad anyway. Not like I--

"Because you left. You weren't there. You aren't there for her."

Wynter saw his father in his reflection, every morning in the mirror. The high nose, same lips, strong chin. He hated it. He hated this. Honestly, Julian was more of a parent to Hayden than her own father was.